


London Calling

by Munchy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Also really slow build relationship here, Also there is no main plot to this, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apartment Living, City Living, Everyone has a job, Except Ludwig, It's like a sitcom, Just mini plots within each chapter or so, More Ships to come, More characters to come, Multi, Only it's got a lot more Shenanigans involved, Or should I say Flat Living, Seriously..., Shit..., So this may never end, like a snail could move faster then this fluff fest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munchy/pseuds/Munchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Alfred F. Jones, a 19 year American who works as a waiter in a small Swiss café. Now meet Ludwig Beilschmidt, a fresh-out-of-college engineer who just wants a job.<br/>These two young men have little in common, but one similarity seems to keep bringing them together. They both live in the same shitty flat complex in London, England. </p>
<p>See how Ludwig and Alfred live their young lives and cause nothing but chaos!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Newton's First Law with a Glass of Pinot Noir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's another typical day at work for Alfred. That is, until he meets a German man, who just so happens to live in the same apartment building.
> 
>  **Warning:** A few swear words, and a few pans colliding with Alfred's head.

Alfred tightened his dark blue apron for the hundredth time that hour. The damn thing refused to stay tied around his waist. He wasn't even that thin. He brushed his golden blonde hair back, sighing in frustration. A sudden ringing sound broke him from his internal cursing, and he grabbed his pen and pad from one of the apron's front pockets. He casually walked over, picking up some menus along the way, to the couple that already took a seat for themselves. They chatted quietly until Alfred made his presence known.

"Good Afternoon. I'm Alfred, and I'll be your server today." He smiled brightly as he handed the two the menus. He held a pen and pad, preparing to write down an order. "Can I start you off with a drink?" He asked politely. The couple ordered as Alfred wrote down two short notes. He excused himself and fetched their drinks; when he returned, the woman looked up at him and spoke.

"I'm sorry if this sounds a bit rude to ask, but … are you American?" Alfred looked at her and smiled.

"Yep. Let me guess it was my accent, huh?" The woman chuckled a little while the gentleman beside her smiled and sighed at his girlfriend.

"We heard about this Swiss café a while back and thought we would try it today, but I never imagined an American working here." The woman continued, the boyfriend trying desperately to stop his love from being impolite.

"I didn't expect to be working here myself, I mean I can hardly pronounce the dish names on the menu, but somehow I've managed not to get myself fired for about a year, so I must be doing something right." He chuckled. The couple laughed and finally placed their orders, Alfred making sure not to rush them. He learned not to rush a Briton his first week on the job. Nearly got his ass fired for that little incident.

As he placed the order to the chef (who was also his boss), a second ringing was heard towards the front. Alfred quickly rushed up front to greet the new costumer, and grabbed a menu. The costumer himself had already taken his seat, waiting for a menu. Alfred handed the man the list of Swiss foods as he greeted the gentlemen. He waited patiently for the man to order his drink. He mused at how familiar he looked, but brushed it off.

The tall looking blonde placed the menu down just as a small young lady rushed by and tripped. Alfred was able to catch her by the back of her apron, however, as Newton's first law has taught us, an object in motion tends to stay in motion unless acted upon by and unbalanced force. In this case, the object in motion was a glass of pinot noir, and the unbalanced force happened to be the blonde customer's chest.

As it collided, the wine spilled all over his shirt and lap. He tried to evade it, but all he managed to do was give it a greater opportunity to ruin his white dress shirt. Alfred blinked as did the young girl with green eyes. The other patrons stared, but quickly went about their business, not wanting to embarrass the other man. He looked very annoyed as he sighed in frustration.

Another sound broke the silence between the three as a few pots and pans clanged against a tiled floor. Another blonde man, who had a similar haircut as the younger woman Alfred still had a grip on, came bursting through the kitchen doorway. His emerald eyes burned with anger and concern.

"What happened now?" He demanded. Alfred helped the small woman lean back on to her feet. Her purple bow tied to the side of her head bounced a little as she rushed to the counter to grab a towel.

"Uhh…." Alfred picked up the glass and handed the man an extra napkin to help clean him self off. "Lil here accidentally spilled the wine on a costumer… again." He tried not to sound like he was blaming Lilly, but he couldn't take the blame for her this time since her older brother did see that Alfred had caught her. Vash, or what Lilly's brother preferred to be called, sighed loudly. He watched his younger sister cross the floor and hand the towel over to the costumer, quietly apologizing for the incident.

"It is alright. I know it was just an accident." He spoke in a deep German accent. Alfred handed the glass over to Lilly so she could take it back to the kitchen. She hurried back, so as not to aggravate Vash anymore, though truthfully, Vash wasn't mad at her, but she would assume he was and avoid him all day, like she normally would.

"The bathroom's over there if you want to wet the cloth. I can give you an extra shirt too, if you need it that is." The German got up and walked over towards the lavatory, thanking the young American as he walked by. Alfred cleaned up the mess quickly and went back to the kitchen to throw the table cloth and napkins in the laundry bin. He walked in and spotted Lilly sitting in the corner, brooding about her newest mistake. Alfred sighed and sat next to the girl.

"You shouldn't take this too hard, Lil. It was an accident, and the guy even forgave you. It's alright." She stayed silent. Alfred patted her head trying to cheer the girl up. "Don't worry about it; you know it wasn't your fault. Shit happens." Suddenly a pan collided with the spectacled male's head.

"Do not use such fowl language around my sister, Alfred…" Vash glared as he glanced back at the two. He was busy making the order, so he didn't have time to come over and knock some more sense into the American, which could be considered a lucky break for Alfred. Lilly looked up as Alfred removed the metal cooking wear off his head. She giggled quietly and gave the other blonde a smile.

"Thank you for cheering me up, Alfie." The American gave her a beaming smile before getting up and helping the young woman up as well. Lilly brushed herself off and poured another glass of pinot noir before going back out to hand it to the costumer, who was patiently waiting for it. Alfred smiled heroically as Vash quickly kicked him out of the kitchen, telling him to get back to work. Alfred had luckily grabbed a spare shirt with the café's logo on it for the German in the bathroom. Alfred went down the small hall, and knocked on the restroom door. A mumbled sound was heard and the click of a lock. Alfred handed the man the clean shirt, but the other paused as he looked at him.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" His accented voice rumbled slightly. Alfred blinked before he answered.

"You know I was wondering the same thing not too long ago."

"Really? Hmm…" The German looked as if he was in thought, completely forgetting the fact that he had no shirt on. Alfred didn't seem to notice either; he was in a similar thought process. The taller of the two finally spoke after a few moments asking, "Do you happen to live near the Globe Flats?"

"Yeah, actually, I live in that apartment complex." Alfred replied with a beaming smile.

"Which floor?"

"Seventh."

"I live on the seventh floor as well." The German's light blue eyes showed a bit surprised as he gathered the new information.

"No kidding? I live in number 4-G."

"I live in 9-G."

"Cool, we're like neighbors." Alfred beamed. The German smiled slightly as well, but the calm moment was ruined once Vash threw another pan at Alfred's head.

" _GIVE HIM THE SHIRT!_ " The café once again went back into an uncomfortable silence as Alfred landed on the floor with a thud. The other man stared back and forth from the enraged Swiss at the hallway's entrance, to the now unconscious American beneath him. He quickly grabbed the shirt from Alfred's grasp and slipped it on. It was a size too small and it was slightly uncomfortable, but he'd live. The American on the floor however might need first aid.

 

* * *

 

The day dragged on from there. The German costumer had left, saying he needed to go home to grab another shirt. He had an important meeting he just couldn't miss. Alfred was upset afterwards, having forgotten to ask for his name. He mused at the thought that the two lived so close to each other, but never formally met. Alfred thought that reintroducing himself later was in order, considering their first "official" meeting was a bit… informal. However, the American would have to wait till later, seeing as he was the one doing laundry.

Mishaps, such as earlier, happened quite often at the café, so Vash made it one of the wait staff's jobs to go to a laundry mat and wash the table cloths. Tonight was Alfred's turn… Then again, it's always Alfred's turn. The American was the only person so far to hold up this job for as long as he did, making him the only waiter. Vash never liked people; he also didn't like to show people kindness (save his sister of course), so it was very difficult for him to deal with another person. Alfred considered himself lucky that he made fast friends with his little sister, Lilly. He knew she had something to do with him still working there.

Alfred stopped his thought process and entered the apartment complex he lived in. He thanked every deity imaginable for the fact that this particular apartment had a few washing machines in the basement. The convenience alone saved him so much time and money. He trudged down the stairs and placed the over stuffed laundry bag on top of a counter. He looked to his left to grab the detergent, when he spotted a familiar face looking at him.

"Hey!" He waved. The light blue eyed man smiled and greeted Alfred back. "Sorry about the wine thing again."

"It is not a problem. I understand that it was an accident."

"That's good, 'cause seriously we don't need another swat team coming there again…" The taller raised a brow, making a face of confusion. Alfred laughed and scratched the back of his head. "It's a long story…" He explained. Alfred began pouring the detergent in the washing machine and stuffed whatever was in the bag into the washer. "By the way, I never got your name. I was gonna ask, but you know… I got hit in the head."

"Yes, I thought that was illegal…"

"Well… Vash is an exception to that law… Anyway, my name's Alfred F. Jones." He stuck out his hand for the other to shake. The German chuckled and firmly shook it.

"I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt, it is nice to meet you Mr. Jones." Alfred's smile turned into a discussed frown as he cringed slightly.

"Oh dude! That sound's like something my father would call himself. Just call me Alfred… or Al, but don't call me Alfie, only Lilly can address me as such." He stated with as much of a serious face he could muster before laughing. Ludwig shook his head and chuckled as well.

"I see, well it is still nice to meet you Alfred." The spectacled man smiled brightly at the other. The two soon went back to their laundry, quickly starting up small talks here and there. A few more residence began to pile into the small laundry room. A small Asian man with a pony tail, who gave an annoyed look at the CD player, dropped his laundry bag next to a washer.

"Alfred, must you play that insufferable music while we do our laundry? Aru~"

"Insufferable? I happen to like Nicki Minaj and her alter ego Roman Zolanski." Alfred stated with a shrug. "Besides Yao, the music you put on all the time sounds like someone's whining into the mike." Yao Wang's jaw gaped open as the American laughed.

"How Dare You!" The long haired brunette suddenly held a skillet in his grip and threw it at the young American's head. After successfully detaining Alfred to the floor, Yao turned to a different radio station and introduced himself to the German, who was staring at Alfred's bleeding head. "Hello! I am Yao Wang, but you my call me Yao. I have not seen you around before. Are you perhaps new? Aru~" A smiled graced the Asian's delicate features.

"No Yao, he's just a vampire hermit who only comes out either on Saturday nights or to get milk." Alfred's form mumbled as he rubbed his head. Yao proceeded to smack the skillet against the American's lumped noggin with a load "dong".

"Uhh… _J-ja_. I'm Ludwig. I-is he going to be okay?" The German asked for the second time that day as he pointed to the unconscious youngster on the floor. He wondered if Alfred's head was like a magnet for frying pans.

"Oh yeah, he get's himself into these sort of messes all the time. I would not worry about him too much." Yao waved a sleeved hand at the American as if he was shooing someone off. Ludwig smiled meekly as Alfred slowly got up and turned to radio station back to his usual music choice.

" _Jeeze_ Yao…" A sudden buzz alerted the trio. Alfred looked at one of the washing machines, and suddenly remembered that it was his. "Shit, washer's done." He opened it up and began stuffing the damp clothes and table cloths into the dryer.

"So Mr. Ludwig, where are you from, if you do not mind me asking. Aru~"

"Berlin, Germany. I graduated with an engineering degree and I heard about the better employment rates in England, so I decided that it was time to move." Ludwig answered soundly. Yao smiled and looked to Alfred.

"See that boy, Mr. Ludwig has a college degree, you should get one too so you can actually get a job." The Asian mocked. Alfred rolled his eyes as he started to walk back to the counter.

" _One:_ you're not that much older then I am Yao, and _two:_ I have two jobs thank you vary much." The spectacled man then plopped himself on the counter top and crossed his legs Indian style, as he referred it to.

" _Two_ jobs?" The older duo exclaimed unanimously.

"I had no idea, aru?" The shortest of the three crossed his arm with a suspicious look on his face.

"What is your other job, Alfred?" Ludwig asked, now curious as to what the American's other career may be.

"Well, I don't consider it a job, but I…" Another buzzing sounded off and Ludwig walked over to the dryer to inspect his clothes. Alfred also pulled out his cell phone, as it had suddenly started to vibrate. Turning down the music (to Yao's blissful delight), he answered his cell, "Hello?"

A loud string of curses could clearly be heard from the other end, and Alfred had to wince away at the sudden outburst. The loud, angry sounding voice could be heard even be heard over all the laundry appliances that were working their stain removing magic. Ludwig stared as Alfred tried to get the person on the other line to calm down. He vaguely wondered who would win a swearing match, a sailor or the angry man on the phone. Ludwig imagined the sailor being put to shame at the audacity coming from the other.

" _Christ_ Arthur! What the hell?" A moment of silence before more screaming was heard. "Alright, _alright!_ I'll be up in a little bit! _Sheesh!_ " With that, the young American hung up his phone and stared apologetically at Ludwig, who was still gazing at the other with a bemused expression.

"Sorry man! I need to go see my cousin! I'll talk to ya later!" Alfred quickly waved before rushing out of the room. The German was barely able to say good bye himself as Alfred slammed the door as he raced out.

"He forgot his laundry…" Ludwig noticed as he opened the buzzing dryer full of table clothes.

Yao smiled, "He always does. Maybe his boss will finally give him a concussion this time, so I don't have to listen to this crap for a while. Aru~" He chucked at the delightful notion, and walked over to the CD player and found the oriental music station with a quick switch of the radio dial.

"Oh! I love this song! Aru~"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Hey! So if you've seen this on Fanfiction.net then you can pretty much skip this and dive straight into the story. For those that haven't, this is (again) a story I'm moving over from Fanfiction.  
>  This particular story is updated irregularly, because it doesn't really have a main plot. This story is more like a sitcom mixed with an everyday-life sorta deal that you find in some manga and anime. So yes... there really isn't an ending unless I decide to end the series. Which also means that I might ask you guys for ideas once in a while. That alright with you?
> 
> Anyway, the first chapter was probably written over a year or so ago, so it's obviously gonna look and sound horrible, but it get's better and better, I swear!
> 
> And as always, I'd like to thank HanakoAnimeaddict for betaing my story, even when she does it on her iPod. ;)


	2. Night of the Alleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred's day off starts off routinely until his cousin comes barreling in with a demand. Then Alfred finds himself spending the evening with Ludwig, walking around the numerous alleys of London, getting lost.
> 
>  **Warning:** Swearing, drunken nonsense, and of course Ivan.

In everyone's lives there is one sound that people hate more than anything in the world, even if they don't even realize it. Alfred was ripped from his beautiful dreams of golden fields and white fluffy rabbits to stare annoyingly at his alarm clock. It had done its job in signaling the American that it was time to get up. There was one small problem with that however… It was his day off.

Alfred pressed the snooze button and threw the black box with blinking red numbers across his room and into the wall. A loud smashing was heard; however, like always, the clock refused to be broken and unplugged. In about 10 more minutes a similar routine would commence, like every week before it, in which Alfred would have to actually get himself out of bed, away from his warm covers, and pick up the alarm clock to manually turn it off. Forgetting to turn off the alarm on his off days was a bad habit he needed to fix. Until then, however, he would continue his dreams of cheeseburgers and superheroes.

About five minutes went by when a knock on the bedroom door caused poor Alfred to glare burning holes towards the wooden frame. After a few seconds, a muffled sigh was heard, then another knock. The American buried his head under his covers, praying that the man behind his bedroom door would just go away. He knew who it was; who else could just waltz into his apartment without getting his ass kicked out the window and have the cops called on him? Alfred mentally cursed when the door was knocked on a third time. He also knew what would happen after three knocks but at the moment, he didn't care.

The door burst open with a load bang. A visible footprint that had to be washed off again appeared on the door's paint. Alfred flinched at the sudden hostile noise coming from the front of the room. Stomping that was coming closer, echoed in Alfred's head. He clenched his eyes and waited for the unforgiving act that would transpire like it did every once a month on his first day off ever since coming here.

"Oi Alfred! Get your bloody arse up! I need to talk to you!" The blankets were ripped off the blonde's body like a table cloth being used for a stunt that involved fine china and a group of old women who liked to gasp at everything.

"Hhhggmmm F-five more minutes…" He rolled over, pretending to still be in a trance of sleepiness but the other male wasn't having any of that shit today. He grabbed the American's ankles and dragged him off of his mattress with strength most people didn't know the Englishman had, effectively "waking" the other up as he hit the floor with a thud.

"The fuck Arthur!?" Alfred quickly rose to his feet, preparing to tackle the other blonde to the ground and start wrestling. Arthur simply glared at the younger with intense green eyes. Alfred had once referred them to his younger brother, Matthew, that the Briton's irises could be compared to acid. Not only did they have a similar color, but they had the same effect on a human being. They burned a hole right through the body, stopping them in their tracks.

"You know exactly why I'm here, you Yankee! I'm here for your rent! It's overdue… yet again!" Arthur pointed his finger at the American and poked him a few times to emphasize his point.

"Didn't we have this discussion last night?!" Alfred yelled back as he smacked the other's hand away.

"Yes, but I was afraid your lazy fat arse would forget."

"I'm not fat you son of a bitch…"

"You eat like one, plus the scale in your bathroom would have to disagree with you."

Alfred simply held up his middle finger, not feeling up for a screaming match this early in the morning. Arthur smirked triumphantly and placed his hands on his hips.

"Okay, listen you git, just because you're my cousin doesn't mean you get breaks from rent; I need to make money somehow, you know. Also your mum called this morning. She was asking if I knew which country you were in this time. "

"Which one did you tell her?" Alfred had waddled over to his dresser and began shuffling through them for some clothes during Arthur's lecture. He was only clad in his boxers, and the morning air coming in from an open window seemed a bit nippy today.

"I said Italy; more specifically you were traveling in Venice. How long do you think you can keep fooling them like this? Just go back to America and go to college like a normal person…" Arthur tilted his head in curiosity, but held an apathetic expression on his face.

"You know I don't want to go to college, and you know as soon as I get home, my parents are going to send me off to some ritzy, boring business school so I can take over the family business. I don't want to raise buffalo in the middle of Kansas!" Alfred grabbed his cousin's shoulders and began to shake them.

"Would you stop that!?" The shaking stopped but Alfred still had a grip on Arthur. "Beside's why would you be sent to business school if you were going to run a bison farm, you git!?"

Alfred released the Englishman's shoulders and blinked. "… You do have a point… but _still!_ I'd rather do something I like then go work on a farm." He crossed his arms and made a disgusted face as he remembered spending his summer vacations on his family's American Bison farm.

 _So much shoveling…_ The blonde American shuddered at the memory.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Speaking of working, you better have the rent paid by tomorrow morning, or you'll find yourself going back to the states with a pair of work overalls, boots and a shovel. Got it!?" Alfred nodded his head frantically, clenching his teeth together to form a frightened frown.

"I promise! Scout's honor!" The American raised a hand as if to pledge his alliance to something. Arthur crossed his arms and huffed.

"You were never a boy scout, you wanker…" The spiky haired blonde exited the room and out of the flat (as he would call it). Alfred stood in his boxers waiting until he heard the click of the door leading out of his residence. Once the sound rang through the apartment, signaling Arthur's departure, Alfred jumped backwards onto his mattress, bouncing a little as he landed.

He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but Alfred knew Arthur would be back later, and he really didn't want another lecture from the green eyed man. But then again… sleeping in for once was always nice. He just needed to lay his head on his pillow just right, and he'd be able to drift off to dream land for a few more hours.

The second worse sound to hit his ears that morning seemed to slap him in the face as his alarm clock across the room sounded off a second time that morning. The noise muffled, by the stack of clothes it landed on. He really hated that thing.

* * *

_How did a day go by so quickly?_ Ludwig glanced at his watch, looking in slight surprise as the time it told him. It was 8:50 p.m., and he really needed to go home. Ludwig clenched the brown bag as he adjusted his scarf. The fall weather was so much colder in Britain then what his brother described to him. Then again, his brother was always an ass so he could have just lied to the blonde German. Ludwig huffed in aggravation, the hot breath turning into a cloud before dissipating a few feet above his head. He glanced up from the sidewalk and stopped in mid-step.

"Alfred?" Ludwig glanced confusingly as the American looked back at him. He seemed to be sitting on a bench eating some fast food burger. His mouth was gaped open, about to take a bite of said burger, when the German called out to him. Alfred closed his jaws with a clack of his teeth clearly audible.

"Oh, hey Ludwig! What brings you here?" The younger asked. Ludwig stopped his gazing and mentally chastised himself for staring.

"I was out buying groceries. May I ask what you're doing out this late?"

"… I uhhh… I got hungry? … Well before that I ended up working on my day off so I could scrounge up enough cash to pay my rent…" The blonde scratched the back of his head. Ludwig blinked at him before taking a seat himself, sighing at the other blonde's antics.

"So I take it that you go the money you needed?"

"Yeah, just barely though, but all's good now!" The American smiled and held up his hand to give the other a thumbs up.

Ludwig sighed again. "Did you eat enough for dinner?" Ludwig's light blue eyes scanned the contents of his paper bag as he asked the question. Alfred took a bite of the burger and answered him with his mouth full.

"Yeah… I think so anyway…" Just then his burger was snatched away from him and tossed in the nearby waste basket. He stared at his empty hand for a moment before twisting his head towards the German next to him. " _Hey_!"

"That is a terrible snack. I know of a place that is just as fast and healthier." Ludwig pulled out a piece of lined paper with writing all over it. The German's light blue eye's scanned the paper and stopped abruptly at a specific line. He got up, still holding onto the brown paper bag, and stuffed the paper into his pocket. "Come along, it's this way… Alfred?"

Ludwig turned to see the America digging through the trash, trying to retrieve the half eaten grease ball. Ludwig winkled his nose in disgust and something akin to pity. He sighed frustratingly as Alfred began to talk out loud to himself… or was it the burger he was talking to?

"Don't worry baby! Daddy's coming to save you!" Ludwig walked over quickly and grabbed Alfred's ear. He then turned on his heels and proceeded down the sidewalk, tugging the American along. "Ow! Wait, Ludwig! No! Daddy'll be back baby, I promise!"

The German sighed loudly as he hailed a taxi and mumbled and address on the other side of the city. Once in the cab, Alfred looked out the window after several failed attempts at getting Ludwig to tell him where they were going. They were crossing the River Thames, albeit not where Tower Bridge was but if you looked, you could see the famous bridge from where you were. Alfred decided he didn't care too much for the sight and stared at the water. The river reflected the strong city lights and made them dance in its powerful flow. It reminded him of the thousands of stars he'd see when he was working on the family farm during the summer. God, he missed the stars, but he wasn't about to go back just to see them.

The taxi eventually stopped at a small restaurant that seemed out of place compared to the other establishments in the area. Nonetheless, it looked completely welcoming. Ludwig guided the young American into the café. They were immediately greeted by a brunette woman with a pink flower clipped into her long silky hair.

"Welcome! Please take a seat and we-" She abruptly stopped as she gazed up to the two men standing at the door. Her voice carried a similar accent as Ludwig's. Alfred had jumped when she suddenly squealed and leapt onto the tall German next to him. "LUDY!" 'Ludy' was taken aback by the sudden hug and blushed, but he soon laughed and coaxed the girl off of him.

"Hallo Elizaveta, it's nice to see you again." Well that explains why she practically jumped him. They knew each other. Alfred stared at the two as they spoke in German. Ludwig gestured over to the younger.

" _Dies ist Alfred. Er ist ein Nachbar von mir in der Wohnung Ich bin bleibe in._ " The woman then looked to Alfred with a soft smile and hugged him.

"Hello Alfred, I'm Elizaveta, but you can call me Liz." She beamed. Alfred blinked as a flush spread across his face.

"H-hiya. This is a nice place you got here." He smiled back as he complimented the small restaurant.

"Aww thank you." She pinched his cheek lightly. "Come, I'll give you the special table in the kitchen."

"We're only staying for a small snack." Ludwig informed her. Elizaveta laughed.

"That's what they all say until they taste my cooking." She guided the two men through the kitchen doors and passed a few chefs, towards a small table in the back. It didn't have any of the décor like the other tables out front, but it was simple and welcoming. Alfred seated himself as Ludwig asked for something, probably their snack. Once the German took a seat, they began talking again.

"So you guys know each other?" Alfred gestured a finger between the Elizaveta and the blonde seated across from him.

" _Ja_ , she is an old friend of our family. She was married to my cousin. We still treat her like family, even though she and Roderich divorced a few years ago." He stated. Alfred smiled as Ludwig explained how she was from Hungary, and how she opened a restaurant in the city.

"That's gotta be cool! I mean when my uncle divorced my aunt, we never spoke to her again because she was only related by marriage. It sucks 'cause she was an awesome cook, but that's how life works I guess." He interrupted. Ludwig gave him a look. He opened his mouth to tell the other that topics such as divorce were alright to talk about, as long as you didn't go into too much detail about it, but Elizaveta placed down their food, effectively silencing him. The American glanced at the plate. It had a small pile of little dumpling looking things. They also looked like they had small chopped up vegetables and bread crumbs mixed in.

"Enjoy the snack boys. I'll be back in a little while to make sure you're okay." She turned around and quickly left to check up on other costumers.

"What are these?" Alfred picked one up with a fork and examined it.

" _Knödel_. They are a type of dumplings made from raw, shredded potatoes, bread and other vegetables."

"They're raw?"

"Not necessarily. Elizaveta boils them in water, so they might be a little raw in the middle, but it's not bad if you eat a raw potato." Ludwig informed. Alfred gazed at the spud dumpling a little longer before nibbling at it. Ludwig chuckled and shook his head. After his experimental taste, Alfred devoured the first in record time. Ludwig gawked at the American as he took a decent handful from the pile and shoved them all in his mouth at once. "A-are you even chewing them?" He finally asked. Alfred glanced up and swallowed before his spoke, and act which the German was thankful for.

"These are delicious! I never had something like these before!" Alfred began to take another. Ludwig was worried that the younger would choke and began pleading to slow down. Just then, the Hungarian giggled as she approached the two with two beer bottles.

"So I'm assuming you want more, yes." She placed her chin between her thumb and forefinger, tilting her head slightly making her appear like a diva mocking something unfashionable. A glimmer in her eyes caused the German to smack Alfred's mouth shut, making sure he didn't order anymore. "Aww Ludy, let the boy eat. He obviously wants more of my amazing cooking." She smirked dangerously.

"He'll choke if he orders anymore." He suddenly slapped the American's hand away as he reached for a Knödel on his small serving dish.

"Alright…" The brunette sighed as her chances for getting more money were foiled. "But here…" She handed the men two beer bottles. "These were shipped in today—premium German beer! I thought you'd like to be the first to try them out." Ludwig smirked as he gave a curious look towards the Hungarian girl. She huffed, knowing exactly what he was getting at. "Yes, they're on the house… you're such a stinge…" She turned back to deal with more costumers coming in.

Ludwig looked annoyed as Elizaveta left. "I'm not a stinge…" he said before taking a bite of Knödel. Alfred laughed as he reached for a bottle.

"Well at least you're not as bad as Vash; now that guys a real penny pincher." The two drank their liquor as they continued to eat the dumplings. Eventually they ordered more beer along with a second helping of Knödel, much to Ludwig's protests. Soon the two blondes became a little intoxicated due to the beer, and Ludwig (who wasn't as drunk as Alfred was at the moment) decided it was best to go back home.

Elizaveta tapped her foot as Ludwig handed her the money for the spud dumplings. "I'm never letting you have beer on the house again!" She complained in German. Her hazel eyes stared at the taller of the two men trying to shuffle through a small pyramid of green bottles. She knew Ludwig was a little tipsy, considering the smile he wore on his face, but Alfred was completely drunk. "Americans…" She sighed.

"Hey Lud! Looky here…" Ludwig glanced up as he tried to sling one of Alfred's arms over his shoulder. The American lifted his hand and presented five bottles. Each one was placed on his finger. "Imma… I have alien hands!" He fluctuated his voice, giving it a spooky quality. Both men burst out laughing afterwards, Elizaveta simply staring at the blondes with slight surprise on her face.

Several minutes of drunken nonsense and damaged property later, the Hungarian woman finally had it with her two guests. It also didn't help that her chefs and wait staff were now questioning her taste in friends. When the brunette managed to catch the trouble makers she yanked them by the back of their collars and proceeded to drag them to the back door in the kitchen.

She threw the drunken men on the asphalted ground with strength not many knew she had and began to yell in a mixture of German and English (which was, without a doubt, heard by the dinning patrons outside the kitchen). "Don't come back 'till you're sober! And you better pay for a new stove Ludwig or so help me-!"

"Don't worry Elizaveta! I'll handle everything! I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt after all! Younger brother to the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt! You have… nothing to worry about, Lizzy!" Ludwig yelled back with a drunken smile plastered on his face. Alfred joined in, but chose to just plain yell until he had to catch his breath and burst into hysterical laughter. The tie he wore around his head (which the Elizaveta wondered where he even got it from) bounced around as he held his stomach while he laughed. Elizaveta's eye twitched and her delicate looking hands balled into fists. She may have misjudged the state of Ludwig's drunkenness, but she wasn't going to let the German get away with that kind of talk.

She slammed the door shut, leaving the drunkards to the dangers of the city streets. The two blondes continued to laugh until Elizaveta came back. Bursting the door open, she threw Ludwig's grocery bag at his unsuspecting head and slammed the door closed. "Don't you ever let me catch you talking like that again, Ludwig Beilschmidt!" Her voice slightly muffled by the door.

Ludwig laid, sprawled out on the ground with his brown paper bag full of groceries (which were miraculously still in the bag) on his face. Alfred stared at his German friend for a moment before he burst out laughing.

Several minutes later, the two were up off the ground and staggering down a maze of alleys. "Hey Alfred, do you know where we are?" Ludwig asked, now regaining his senses a bit.

"I do believe we're in an alley Sir Ludwig." Alfred stated with a posh British accent. Ludwig glanced at the American and deduced that he was completely wasted. He knew he shouldn't have let the younger have so much beer. Also the chugging contest was probably a bad idea (even though Ludwig had won and claimed bragging rights).

The German managed to sling Alfred's arm over his shoulder and practically drag him up and down numerous alleys, however he was still completely lost, and Alfred's drunken state wasn't helping! The spectacled blonde giggled as he held onto Ludwig's groceries, entertaining himself with some fresh parsley plants that were bunched together. Ludwig was getting frustrated as he popped out of an alley and found himself on a desolate street, far from the main road were a taxi could bring them home.

 _If only I was sober enough at Elizaveta's restaurant, I would have called a cab!_ Ludwig thanked God for his family's fast sobering gene (no matter which side he got it from), otherwise he'd probably still be in that alley with Alfred, laughing like a hyena. However the resulting headache he had was a slight catch he learned about in his early years of drinking. Though only a slight one at the moment, it was still giving him enough of a problem that he couldn't think properly.

He quickly walked into another alley, and proceeded to get lost again for another thirty minutes before popping back out at another decollate street that looked oddly similar to the one he was at before.

"Dude… where's the street?" Alfred hiccupped as he looked around. Ludwig assumed he meant the main road, but he wasn't sure anymore.

"I don't know…" He sighed in irritation and dragged the American towards another alley way. The dizzying maze continued for another annoying half hour, Alfred giggling to himself or at the parsley the whole time. The duo managed to get to another street, one with some traffic, but nothing as heavy as the main road Ludwig was trying to find.

"Hey Lud…" Alfred looked away from his entertaining grocery to the irritated German dragging him around. "Are we there yet?" Ludwig was positive Alfred was as sober as he was and just trying to aggravate him now. He narrowed his cerulean eyes at the younger man he was practically carrying.

"How are we supposed to be back home yet, if I don't even know… _where I am yet!?_ " Alfred stared back and tilted his head and stuck out his tongue in thought.

He shrugged after a few minutes and said, "You used the TARDIS!" Ludwig would have dropped the American right then and there if it wasn't for his innocent look that told him that Alfred was being serious.

"Please tell me you're not sober, because if you are, I'm leaving you here on this street corner…" Alfred opened his mouth to say something but he paused. His expression then changed into something resembling shock. He dropped the grocery bag and pointed a shacking hand towards something to Ludwig's left. The German raised a brow in curiosity and turned his head, wanting to know what caused Alfred to shut his mouth (not literally but figuratively).

All he saw was a tall man with beige colored hair and a pink scarf. He looked happy too as he approached the two. Ludwig continued to look at the man, who he now noticed was a lot taller then he thought. His smile was childlike and gave off a friendly vibe.

" _Privyet_ little Alfred, and how are you this fine evening?" The tall man greeted. Ludwig racked his aching brain for a second and realized that he had greeted Alfred in Russian. Was the man Russian?

"How The -hic- _Hell_ Do You Keep Findin' Me You… _Commie Bastard_!?" Alfred slurred with a holler.

 _Well that answered my question…_ Ludwig hung his head in embarrassment, which only made his head hurt worse. The Russian laughed loudly and looked at the tiny American with violet eyes.

"Ah Alfred, when will you stop calling me that? You know there was a time when you liked to call me sweeter things." Alfred made a face that Ludwig could only describe as the exact definition of disgusted. Like he literally looked it up and BAMP! There's Alfred's picture next to the definition. The shortest of the trio shuddered slightly and glared at the Russian.

"Fuck you! You're nothin' butta… -hic- butta…" Alfred trailed off, failing to make a comeback. Ludwig looked at the Russian and proceeded to introduce himself while Alfred began to mumble to himself in the background, trying to come up with a better insult.

"Uhh hello. My name his Ludwig, I'm a friend of Alfred's." The taller male tilted his head and smiled.

"Nice to meet you Ludwig, I'm Ivan. Alfred and I go way back… Isn't that right… _comrade_?" Ivan called back to the drunk blonde, a suggestive smirk gracing the Russian's features.

"Don't you use yer commie talk on me!" Alfred yelled before glaring at the Russian. Ludwig stared at the American for a moment with a deadpanned expression on his face. He turned back to Ivan.

"I apologize for him; he's not himself at the moment."

"Oh, I can tell _that_ much. I just like to mess with him." Ivan smiled, but Ludwig couldn't help but shudder slightly, having the strangest feeling that there was a dark, menacing presence close by, ready to eat him whole. "So are you perhaps lost?" Ivan asked innocently.

"No we aren't!" Alfred hollered back, tugging onto Ludwig closer.

"Huh? Oh yes! I can't seem to find the main road." Ludwig admitted.

"All you need to do it go down this street, make a left and then make a right as you go down that street. You can get a taxi there, _da_?" Ludwig smiled in relief, finally having what he needed in order to go home.

"Thank you so much. I was worried that we were going to spend the whole night out here." The German showed his gratitude by bowing his head a few times. Alfred simply pouted and mumbled obscenities.

"Glad I could help. I must ask though, did you happen to just meet Alfred? Because I do not remember seeing you those times I spent at his apartment." Ludwig glanced up from shushing Alfred to reply.

"Uh, _ja_ , I just moved in a month ago." Ludwig informed the tall Russian.

"Oh _really_?" Ivan's violet eyes began to shine with interest. "Well, if you ever need any assistance with Alfred, you can always come to me. I know just how to handle him." His smile grew into a smirk that screamed everything but friendly.

"Oh no you don't! _Back off_ Braginsky! You better respect that fuckin' restraining order!" Alfred slurred again. Ludwig twisted his head around to gawk at the American who was pointing an accusing finger at Ivan.

"Respect _What?!_ "

"But Alfred, I didn't respect the order that one time, and you seemed to be fine with it. _In fact_ you loved it so much, you couldn't stop saying my name the entire night." Ivan thick accent rolled off his tongue as he grinned yet again. Alfred blushed a deep shade of red and quickly bent down (taking Ludwig with him) and dug into the brown grocery bag on the ground. He pulled out a carrot and pointed it at Ivan face.

"Oh yeah?! _En Garde!_ " Ivan looked at the carrot for a moment as it was swished around in his face. After a moment he smiled and began to laugh, but it was much darker then when he had greeted the two blondes. They both shuddered and froze, not knowing what to do. Alfred was the first to come out of his frightened shock and decided to use his trusty vegetable sword the only way he knew how.

He threw the carrot at Ivan's face.

Then he bolted down the street, with the grocery bag and Ludwig in tow.

Ivan blinked as he picked up the carrot that hit him on his big nose. He stared at the edible orange cone then back up at the fleeing duo before chucking darkly. "On day Alfred, you'll become one with me… you _all_ will become one with me."

* * *

As Alfred and Ludwig hailed down a taxi and practically leapt into the black cab, they quickly gave the cabby their address and frantically (yet politely) told the old man to floor it. After about a mile or so down the road, things finally settled down.

"Who was that?" Ludwig asked as he panted. He never ran so fast in his life, and he ran three miles daily! Alfred was wheezing as well, gripping the car door's frame for dear life.

"That was Ivan… He's… he was... Let's just say the man's insane…" Alfred finished. He was still slightly drunk, but even when drunk he knew when to run from the Russian like his life depended on it, and for all he knew, it probably _did_ depend on it.

"But the things he said… _you_ said… a _restraining order_?!" Ludwig glanced at the other blonde clenching his teeth together in slight fear.

"Some things are just better left unsaid…" Alfred stated, and Ludwig had to agree with him on that. As things calmed down and both caught their breath, things got quiet. The ride continued to go on like that till they reached their flat complex.

When the two reached Alfred's door, they stood there looking at each other for a moment.

Then they burst into laughter. Alfred bent over holding his sides, while Ludwig placed one hand on his hip and other on his forehead.

"Oh man, whada night!" The American snorted.

"A-are you even sober enough to get into your apartment?" Ludwig wiped a forming tear at the corner of his eye. Alfred coughed as he began to calm down.

"I-I think so yeah… Whoa! I don't think I've ever had this much fun before, well except for this one time when I streaked down the hall of my school on a dare and ended up being chased by a horde of teachers." Alfred finished. Ludwig stared at him before he burst out laughing. The shorter joined in right after and the hysterical laugher commenced all over again.

However the happy moment was short lived as a wok slammed into Alfred's head. The American collapsed on the floor, unconscious for the 16th time that week. "Shut Up! Some of us are trying to get some sleep, aru~! The _nerve_ of some children!"

Ludwig stared at Alfred's comatose form, twitching ever so slightly, and wondered if all these pans colliding with the boy's head was the reason why he acted so weird all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations** :  
>  _Dies ist Alfred. Er ist ein Nachbar von mir in der Wohnung Ich bin bleibe in. =_ This is Alfred. He's a neighbor of mine in the apartment I'm staying in. _{German}_  
>  Ja = Yes _{German}_  
>  Privyet = Hello _{Russian}_  
>  En Garde = "On [your] Guard" _{French} (however, Alfred is using the fencing term which was adopted from the French warning)_
> 
> **A/N:** The chapter's title was actually created by a title generator, 'cause you know, I'm a lazy bitch, but that's beside the point.  
>  I generally like the chapter overall, however it ended up being much more long then usual, due to so much going on and I didn't want to split the content in half. I should also mention that if I translate any content then this will be the format. Translations on top, then author's notes on the bottom.  
> I did enjoy writing Ivan's, Alfred's and Ludwig's little encounter there. That conversation by the way, also means that, yes, Alfred and Ivan did date a one point, but Natalia somewhat ruined it with her excessive death threats over the phone and near stabbings in Alfred's bed. 
> 
> And as always I would like to take the time to thank my beta, HanakoAnimeaddict. Really, you're the best Abyss!


	3. It's Like I'm Stan Fucking Lee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ludwig figures out Alfred's second job.
> 
> **Warning:** Well obviously the swearing… I mean it's even in the title… Also, France. That is all.

A steady set of banging was coming from Alfred's door. It kept getting louder as the minutes ticked by. He really didn't want to get off the couch though…

He sighed after four and a half minutes of straight knocking had turned into kicking. Alfred begrudgingly raised himself off his comfortable couch and walked to the door. He hesitated for a moment, letting the wooden door be kicked for another moment. Whoever wanted to see Alfred really wanted to see him _right now_. So it prompted the good question of who the hell wanted to visit him _this_ badly. Also, how did they even know he was home? Vash gave him the day off on Lilly's request due to the extra work day Alfred had put in.

"Alfred! I know you're in there! You told me it was your day off!" An angry voice called out from behind the door. The menacing tone was only enhanced by the owner's German accent.

Oh…

Well that explained a lot.

Alfred opened the door and smiled brightly. "Ludwig!" Alfred had expected Ludwig's cerulean blue eyes glaring at him; what he got, however, was his cat's beady blue eyes instead. "Cap?" He asked the fuzzy feline.

"I believe he belongs to you."

"Holy Crap Captain! You can _talk_?!" Alfred felt a sharp pain build up in the back of his head as Ludwig smacked him.

"Your cat was scratching at my balcony, making my dogs bark." The Germany continued to hold onto Alfred's feline while said owner was busy clutching to the door frame for support after his scare.

"You've got dogs?! But I thought we weren't allowed to have any?" Ludwig brought up his index finger to his mouth, trying to tell the other to _shut_ his big mouth.

" _Shhh!_ I know that, but I couldn't just get rid of them. Do you know how hard it was to find an apartment that allowed even cats in the city?"

"Oh… Sorry…" Alfred apologized meekly, now a little more quiet. He reached over and plucked his pet away from the German's strong arms and held it in his own. "Thanks and… uh sorry about that. Captain America likes to balcony hop when I leave him outside by accident. He must really like you though, considering the fact that he refuses to let anyone else pick him up besides me."

Ludwig stared at the American for a moment, contemplating on the fact that Alfred had named his cat after an overly patriotic comic book character. Then again, he shouldn't have been all that surprised really. He shook his head, "Either way, you should not keep your cat outside at night. Someone might mistake him for a stray." The tall blonde lectured.

Alfred chuckled softly and invited his newest friend in. "You sound an awful lot like Arthur." The American commented as he placed the cat down on the floor. It hopped up on the couch and began to look for something to play with. "Stay here for a minute; I'll get us a drink and maybe we can head out for breakfast."

Alfred went into his small kitchen and opened the fridge. He pulled out a few bottles of soda and entered into the living room again. Ludwig, however, had disappeared.

"Ludwig? Hello…? Dude, where'd ya go?" The blonde teen then heard a shuffling noise coming from down the hall. It sounded similar to papers falling. He placed the sodas down on the coffee table and walked down the hall.

_There's only one place that sound could have come from…_ Alfred noticed the door to his spare room was slightly ajar. Feeling that there was no doubt now, he entered to the room to find his German friend holding onto a massive amount of large papers. At first glance, Alfred had deducted that the large stack had finally tipped over and Ludwig, who happened to be there, caught them, however most of the papers were askew and bending.

Alfred panicked and raced over to the large man and carefully took the stack and placed it on the hardwood floor.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Alfred cursed out, trying to organize the papers into a neat pile, and pressing the bent ones on his thigh in an attempt to straighten them out.

"I-I'm so sorry Alfred! I-" Ludwig tried to apologize and explain himself.

"It's okay Ludwig! I made the pile way too big. I should have separated them, and they were going to fall over eventually."

"Still I should have listened to you and stay put, but your cat…"

"My cat? What did Cap do this time?" Alfred looked over to see Captain America on Ludwig's shoulder. It seemed content with staying with the larger man.

"H-He… Well I saw that he had this yarn ball and was tangling himself up with it. I tried to help him, but he just ran off into this room. I was having a look around when he jumped on me and caused the papers to fall. I'm sorry Alfred." Ludwig apologized yet again. Alfred sighed, but smiled.

"Wow, Cap must _really_ like you then. He doesn't even go on my shoulder anymore. Not since he was a kitten. But that's because he got too big and fat." Cap hissed and his owner rolled his eyes. "Fine, not fat, _solid_. Happy now?" His cat mewled.

Ludwig simply looked back and forth between the two and decided not to ask.

Alfred separated his now organized stack of papers and carried one over to his desk. Ludwig decided, against his better judgment, to better examine the room as he untangled the cat from his red yarn ball.

The German was quiet surprised by how organized this room was compared to the others. Alfred was usually a little messy, having only been in his house once to help him to his bed after getting knocked unconscious yet again. However, that one visit was good enough to convince Ludwig that Alfred wasn't a neat person by nature. Yet the room he was in now was nearly spotless save the light table and desks which had a few ink stains on them.

The walls were covered in posters off all shapes and colors, most having some sort of strong looking person or group of people on them. A lone closet, which was left open, had shelves and selves of different art supplied, all ranging from inks, to markers, and even paints. It was astounding.

"So Alfred…" Ludwig began.

Alfred glanced up as he had placed the first stack onto a desk with a scanner and computer. "Yeah? What is it Lud?"

Ludwig glanced over at the other stack on the floor. He paced Captain down and grabbed the first paper on the top of the stack. Upon further examination, Ludwig discovered that the paper was heavy and it was scattered with blue dots and lines. Of course the most notable feature was the drawings on the page itself.

It was a comic page.

"So… was this the second job you were talking about?" Ludwig placed the page back onto the pile and picked the stack up before handing it to Alfred. The American smiled brightly as he set the pages down.

"Yep! I'm a comic book artist."

"That's an interesting title to have."

"Heh, yeah… well it's better than a Bison farmer, that's for sure." Alfred scratched his nose as he looked thoughtfully in a random direction, thinking about his career choice.

"A what?"

"Oh it's nothing!" Alfred waved the German off, trying to change the subject, but noticed the clock on the far side of the room. Wonder Woman's arms were indication the time as, " _You're fucking late!_ "

" _Shit!_ I'm late for class!" Alfred suddenly leapt into action, grabbing random supplies from his closet and reaching for his backpack.

"Class? You're actually in college? I though Yao said-"

"It's a class at the local community center. It's not college level by a long shot—I couldn't possibly afford it; I'm dirt poor!" The shorter blonde quickly snatched a portfolio that had been left in the corner of the room. "I mean, I still pay for it, but it's not as expensive as a university class. Plus I'm still learning something, right? Hey! Why don't you come along?" His beaming smile (which Ludwig was now familiarizing himself with) had directed its attention towards Ludwig's face.

The German paused for a moment, trying to figure out how to answer the other. "I don't think they'll like me there. I mean, you paid for the class and all. I'd be imposing."

"No problem man! My teacher doesn't really care about that stuff. I mean, you're only coming for one class as my guest. It's not imposing."

"Still…"

"Please!" Alfred stuck out his lower lip in an attempt to make the other give in.

"Well I'm definitely saying no if you're going to make a face like _that._ " Ludwig gave the other a serious look. The younger faltered slightly, but he pulled himself together just as quickly.

"Fine, I won't make faces at you like that again if you just come along for one class!" Alfred bargained.

"Hmm…" Ludwig crossed his arms and pondered the thought. He began to open his mouth to say no to the deal, but was interrupted.

"Plus I'll pay half for that new stove you broke at Liz's restaurant the other day."

"Deal." Ludwig reached out his hand without hesitation and Alfred took it before they shook.

Suddenly Ludwig found himself being pulled out of the apartment complex and down the street. "Good cause I gotta go! I'm freaking late!"

 

* * *

 

The first thing Ludwig noted was the building's typical 70's architecture and style. Faded colors that were once a bright hue were painted on panels that framed the top and bottom of large windows. Memories of his old school building flashed through Ludwig's mind as he gazed at the community center.

The second thing he noticed was the blonde man, clad in only what appeared to be a silk robe, coming at them, arms open wide as he ran up to the two.

"ALFRED! _Mon Dieu!_ There you are!"

Oh god…

He was _French_.

Alfred stopped in his tracks as the Frenchman neared.

"Oh, hey Francis." The American greeted casually with a slight wave of the hand. Ludwig jerked his head so fast he nearly got whiplash.

Is he _serious?_

" _Mon petit artiste aux yeux bleus_ , where on Earth have you been?! Everyone is waiting to start." Francis placed his hands on his hips as he scrutinized the young man.

"It's not like _I_ teach the class!"

"Yes, but it is _your_ turn to present today before we start sketching!"

There was a long pause.

"What day is it?" Alfred asked suddenly.

"Tuesday." Francis rolled his eyes and sighed.

Another long pause.

"Oh… _Oh!_ " With that, Alfred bolted the rest of the way towards the building, leaving Ludwig with the silky clad Frenchman.

There was this awkward moment in which Ludwig didn't have a single clue what to say. Instead he just kept staring ahead, hoping that Alfred would remember him and come back.

Francis turned his head to finally acknowledge the German. "Oh ho ho ho! What do we have here?" A suggestive smirk played on the blonde's stubble face as a brow quirked up towards his hairline.

Well, there goes that little piece of hope Ludwig was clinging to.

 

* * *

 

Alfred burst into the room with enough force, a few of the students around him thought he had made a crack in the cinder-block wall.

"Sorry I'm late!" He bellowed out quickly.

A brunette lifted his head up from one of the tables. His expression looked a bit confused for a moment, but he beamed a moment later. "Alfred! Good, you're here! Ve~ We can begin the class now!"

"But Mr. Vargas-san, Francis-san is still unaccounted for." Another young man lifted his hand up, trying to signal the teacher.

"Umm, like you do realize, you totally just called him, _Mr._ Mr. Vargas, right Kiku?" A blonde sitting next to the Asian pointed out. He gripped a hot pink cell phone in his hand, almost completely consumed by little frilly charms dangling from strings.

Kiku ignored the outburst from the overly flamboyant male beside him, his attention still on Mr. Vargas.

"He has some time before we sketch. If he isn't here, we'll go look for him." The brunette smiled.

As the conversation commenced between the classmates and teacher, Alfred rushed to the front of the room and opened his portfolio. He began clipping art to the blacktop with magnetic clips. By the time he placed his third and final piece up, Francis flamboyantly entered the room, tugging Ludwig with him.

"Oh Feliciano!" he sang, "It appears we have a guest, no?" Francis lifted up Ludwig's arm and waved it to and fro for emphasis.

The other man blushed as eyes began to focus on him. "Uhh… H-hello." Ludwig cursed mentally for his stuttering. He normally didn't get nervous in front of a crowd, but today seemed to be full of exceptions. He quickly tugged his arm away and surveyed the room, looking for a familiar American.

If only to give him a piece of his mind, that is. Leaving him with a lecherous man, and a _Frenchman_ no less. How dare he?!

Feliciano walked up to the two blondes at the door. He smiled warmly at the German, gaining his attention, and stood on the tip of his toes, pecking Ludwig on both his cheeks. The blonde blushed a deep red that could rival the ripest mackintosh apple. Francis giggled beside him, one hand over his mouth, the other at his hip.

Ludwig glared _daggers_ to say the least.

" _Ciao!_ And welcome to my life drawing class! I am the teacher, Feliciano Vargas. You can call me Mr. Vargas, or Vargas, or Feliciano, or even Feli, whichever you prefer. Did you just sign up? I don't see your supplies. I can get you some; we have extra in the supply closet!" Feliciano beamed as he spoke a mile a minute.

Within the first five seconds of meeting the man, Ludwig began to dwell on whether the smaller man would ever shut up.

He soon found the answer to be a big fat no.

"Let me introduce you to the rest of your fellow artistic students!" Feliciano began to tug at the blonde's arm.

"Uhh, what? No, no, I'm just an observer, a guest really." Ludwig brought his hands up, trying to communicate to the other to stop and shut up for a moment so he could get a word in edge wise.

"Oh! A guest! How exciting! Come sit!" The brunette grabbed Ludwig's arm again (where everyone seemed to be grabbing him today) and pushed him into a chair.

Alfred turned around as he finished aligning his pieces to his liking. "Oh… Hey Ludwig!" He waved at the German a few feet from him.

"' _Hey Ludwig!_ '… Is that all you have to say?" The German did not look pleased.

"…Yep!" Alfred replayed, a blinding smile rewarded as a second answer, as if it would solve everything.

"Alfred, you know this handsome devil?" Francis crept up behind said "handsome devil" and squeezed his shoulder. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he spoke. Ludwig shuddered, and tried to shrug the hand away.

"Yeah! He's _my_ guest. We live in the same flat complex." Alfred smiled proudly, as if it _was_ something to be proud of.

"Oh? He must have just moved in, then." Francis stated. "My _monstre sourcil_ has been keeping secrets from me again." There was a dark chuckle, and Ludwig shifted over a good six feet.

In his rush to get as far away from Francis as possible, Ludwig bumped into a pink cell phone and knocked it off the table.

"Hey! Like, watch it!" Ludwig turned and met a feisty pair of green eyes that reminded him of his new and impossibly crazy landlord.

He would later deny the (manly) squeaky sound that came from his throat when Alfred asked about it.

"Ah, my apologies!" Ludwig cleared his throat and quickly picked up the obnoxiously bright phone off the floor, and handed it to the blonde in front of him.

But as the phone was snatched possessively away, Ludwig couldn't help but notice the plaid blue skirt the other was wearing. Though Ludwig had been taught not to stare at others as a child, the German couldn't exactly help it.

It was really short.

Like, _really_ short.

The kind of short you don't want to associate a man with… **ever.**

Apparently this annoyed the green eyed man… woman… ( _Transvestite?_ Ludwig gave up trying to put a label to it.) " _What?!_ Never seen a guy in a totally cute skirt before?!" Ludwig's attention snapped back towards the other blonde and began to stutter out another apology, growing a bit red in the process.

He just couldn't win today, could he?

Feliciano quickly rushed over, murmuring a few curses in Italian as he frantically waved his hands to try and calm Felix down.

"Whoa, Felix! Calm yourself, bro. You should be used to that kind of stuff by now." Alfred came to Ludwig's defense quickly.

" _Sì_ Felix, please don't get upset. I can't afford to have you go through another episode again. I'm still paying off my boss for the broken windshield…" Feliciano warily said, grimacing at the terrible memory.

"But it's like, totally rude to stare! Didn't your mom teach you any manners?" Felix glared at the German.

"I'm sure she did, but I don't think she envisioned Ludwig meeting an exuberant cross dresser such as yourself, Felix." A man, who had stayed pretty quiet throughout most of the class finally perked up.

Most of his beige colored tresses were slicked back, save a part of his bangs and a stubborn curl that escaped the cross hair clip. His hand on his cheek as he leaned onto the table, he looked bored as he lazily looked at the cross dresser fuming at Ludwig.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean, Erik!?" Felix turned his fierce look towards the violet eyed man.

"What do you _think_ it means?" Erik asked in a monotonous manner. Felix bristled with rising anger and opened his mouth to start a chain of insults when Kiku stepped in.

The Asian stepped forward, raising his hand up politely in order to intervene. "Mr. Vargas, Alfred-san has his pictures up, should I pass out the critique sheets?"

Feliciano blinked for a moment before sighing in relief, a smile etched onto his features. "Yes! That would be _wonderful_ , Kiku!" He gripped the Asian's hand and brought it up to his chest. " _Thank you._ " He whispered, extremely grateful for Kiku's help.

The brown eyed man nodded before making his way towards the front desk to grab the papers.

Meanwhile, Alfred laughed loudly as he strode towards the front of the room, making sure everyone was paying attention to him. Felix had muttered "Attention whore…" as Alfred turned around, glaring daggers at the young man's back. Ludwig's eyebrow shot to his hairline as he gave Felix a look (Alfred would later deem it Ludwig's " _Bitch Please_ " look, much to the German's dismay).

Ludwig cursed the American for leaving him in another awkward position. Felix, who was still sneering at the Norwegian, sat back down next to the German, giving off a threatening vibe.

Of course as Ludwig tried to shift away, the scantily clad Frenchman was already there beside him, his arm draped around the other's shoulders. Francis even had the gall to throw a quick wink in Ludwig's general direction.

The blushing German felt his jaw clench in irritation. Someone was going to get punched in the face at the end of all this, and Ludwig was pretty sure he was going to throw it.

Alfred stood before the class, smiling like an idiot as Kiku passed the papers around. What was on the papers wasn't really important it seemed as half of the class tossed them aside. Ludwig looked at the copy he was given.

_Weekly Critique_ was typed in bold letters at the top, then an underlined, _First Piece._ Underneath that, there were a few blank lines for people to write on. This was also the case for _Second Piece_ section and _Third Piece_ section as well. He noticed that there was no place to put a name.

Noticing the confused expression on Ludwig's face, Feliciano leaned over and quietly explained that the critique paper was meant to be an anonymous way for people to evaluate other's art work truthfully, without worrying about getting into confrontations with the artist or not saying something due to all the people around. The Italian continued to explain that critique was important for an artist to improve, so these papers were useful, but not always needed.

Ludwig glanced back up when Alfred spoke. He pointed towards his pictures, describing each one. Ludwig noted how realistic they looked, yet at the same time, they weren't. He knew he saw that style somewhere before. After a moment, the German realized that all of the pieces up on the board happened to be in Alfred's "comic book" style. Like they were covers to new issues.

They were extremely detailed, that much was certain. Ludwig also took note that they were traditionally done, but he wasn't quite sure which parts had been done in marker or water color. He never really had an artistic eye (he blamed his brother for that). Either way, Ludwig admitted that they were much more then he could ever dream of doing, so they were indeed amazing to him.

Alfred looked around the room once he finished his presentation. It was a small class; only four and a half people actually took it. Francis counted as the half because he modeled most of the time, though he was a fantastic painter.

Feliciano stood and examined each art piece with his amber eyes. This had been the quietest Ludwig had heard the short Italian man be, and he had only known him for about 15 minutes.

The brunette nodded twice before speaking, " _Magnifico!_ Well done Alfred, the use of shades and tones brings out a more realistic quality. The second piece has a great influence in art nouveau, especially with the flat colors you painted here, and design of the boarder." Feliciano pointed to said locations. "However, you need to watch your anatomy, especially when you draw women. I can see a few mistakes."

The Italian smiled warmly as Alfred listened intently, or at least it looked like he was from Ludwig's perspective. "I know we don't get many female models coming in, but if you need reference, you can look at medical books. Also you could always ask a pretty woman on the street. Entice her with some _italiano_. I'm sure she'd accept the invitation." Feliciano winked.

Alfred laughed meekly and rubbed the back of his head. "Uhhm, I don't think that'll work too well for me, Mr. Vargas."

"I agree, I tried to woo a beautiful young woman with my native tongue, but she was cruel, and brushed me off like a lowly commoner." Francis placed a large hand onto his forehead and dramatically sighed.

"Like, that's funny, 'cause I remember her totally kicking you in the shin 'cause she like, actually _knew_ what ' _obtenir dans mon pantalon_ ' meant in English." Felix commented. Francis gave him a sneer, not just because his ego was just bruised, but because Felix's pronunciation was like nails on a chalk board. Horrendous and unforgivable.

"That's because you didn't use Italian." Another glare was given and the brunette chuckled, "Does anyone have any comments they'd like to tell Alfred himself?" Feliciano asked the class.

Erik raised his hand. "Yeah, I want to make a comment on the anatomy as well, if that's alright."

Alfred and Feliciano both nodded. Erik smirked, the first actual expression to form on his face that day. Ludwig, however, knew that it should probably not be read as a _good_ thing, like the two spacey men up front were doing at that very moment.

"I'd like to know when you plan to stop putting breasts on women's' backs, or do all the women you draw have spines made of elastic rubber bands?" The smirk got a little worse, and the room fell into an eerie silence with the only sound coming from a breeze (Which Ludwig _still_ cannot, for the life of him, figure out where it came from in the first place. There weren't any windows in the room and the door was closed for God's sake!)

A moment later, Ludwig admitted to himself that he was wrong for once, and that it wasn't _he_ who was going to throw the first punch, but Alfred.

Well… Actually he threw an X-Acto knife first (Again, Ludwig _still_ didn't know where the thing came from as it just suddenly appeared in Alfred's hand), the tip of the blade embedding itself in the hard plastic of the chair's back that Erik was sitting in (fortunately, he dodged out of the way first).

_Then_ came the punch to the face.

The next thing everyone knew, Alfred had tagged teamed with Felix in a wrestling match to the death against Erik somewhere on the linoleum floor. Alfred specifically had the Norwegian in a head lock, while Felix tried to curb stomp him (and making things a hundred times worse and a thousand times more traumatizing then it needed to be, because of that _god damned skirt_ ). Kiku was frantically trying (and failing) to pull one of the blondes off. Feliciano yelped in surprise before scurrying out of the room at light speed to alert the security guard down the hall, blaring something about a "Code Mango".

Now while all this was going on, Ludwig continued to sit in his chair, still holding the critique sheet in his hand. Francis, still beside him and arm still slung around his shoulders, observed the happenings taking place with indifference. The German stared at the chaos that suddenly erupted like Mount Vesuvius. The only exception was that there was no "Pompeii" to destroy… Or at least Ludwig didn't think there was one.

As the situation continued to escalate, the German began to consider the thought of just up and leaving before the "creative process" turned into a blood bath. However, as luck would have it, Francis glanced at the clock, and then abruptly stood. He sauntered his way towards what looked like a small rising in the center of the room.

Ludwig stared at the Frenchman curiously, wondering what Francis had planned.

"Now, now children, play time is over! The time must now be spent creating… _Art!_ " With that, the blue eyed blonde de-robed himself, letting the silk material fall to the grown and revealing all his naked… "glory", for lack of a better term.

Ludwig found himself staring again, but now his mouth just hung open. The initial act caused the rest of the students to stop whatever they were doing as well, and give pause as Francis tried to find a more comfortable pose. All in all, Francis' random (and somewhat abrupt) nudity was for once a good thing.

To an extent anyway.

Feliciano's relived voice was heard as he entered the room.

"Oh _good_! It wasn't a Code Mango after all."

Ludwig then repressed the next 45 minutes from his memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  _Mon Dieu! =_ My God! _{French}_  
>  Mon petit artiste aux yeux bleus = My little blue eyed artist. _{French}_  
>  Ciao! = Hello! _{Italian}_  
>  Monstre sourcil = Eyebrow monster _{French}_  
>  Sì = Yes _{Italian}_  
>  Magnifico! = Magnificent _{Italian}_  
>  Italiano = Italian _{Italian...}_  
>  Obtenir dans mon pantalon = Get in my pants. _{French}_
> 
> **A/N:** So yeah, I decided that Alfred would make an excellent comic book artist. In my head canon, America can't really draw like the rest of the nations, but he's got Marvel and DC and that has to count for something right? So boom! Comic book artist.  
>  Speaking of which, there is a homage to the fabulous Tumblr group, Escher Girls, in this particular chapter. I recommend looking them up, they're quite hilarious, and they help artists with their anatomy~
> 
> I would also like to take the time to thank my beta, HanakoAnimeaddict, because this was a long chapter and she deserve a batch of cookies.


	4. Popular Misconceptions #1 (Not All Americans Wana Be Cowboys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being caught with a gondolier who's got a lousy singing voice, Alfred reveals the real reason why he doesn't want to go home.
> 
> **Warnings:** Swearing (like always), a few traumatizing memories, Gilbert the psychologist, and Feliciano the terrible accordion player

Why Ludwig even bothered to tell Alfred to keep it down was beyond him. However, having the threat of a wok to the face over one's head was enough to motivate anyone. Ludwig knew Alfred had the ability to be quiet. He witnessed it on a few occasions before (though it was usually when he was asleep (and even that wasn't as quiet as one would think) or extraordinarily surprised (with the whole "mouth gapping wide open" routine)).

However that wasn't really the problem. The question was why was _he_ always the one telling him to shut up? The excuses varied from person to person.

_("He's your friend, aru~"_

_"The sodding git won't listen to me!"_ )

Though it did occurred to him to just say no and tell them to deal with it on their own. But _no_ , Ludwig was too polite to do that.

He sighed as he stood in front of Alfred's door. Music could be heard, muffled by the wood and walls. It was generic Italian music—that much Ludwig knew—which was why he hesitated before knocking on the door. Alfred listened to pop, rap, and… well… _American_ music. Why was he listening to Italian accordion music?

As his large hand tapped on the door, the white painted wood creaked open. Ludwig paused as the music became a little louder now that the door was ajar. He pushed it open gently and peaked inside before opening the door completely and stepping inside.

There was a screen. It looked like the background screens a photographer would use. Behind said screen was the sound of horrible, off key singing. The accordion music was brutally loud, almost bursting Ludwig's eardrums. However he managed to hear Alfred's voice above all the chaos.

"Hey Mom! Pop! Greeting's from Venice, Italy!" Ludwig's brow rose to his hairline as he made his way around the screen.

"As you can see, I'm having a killer time. Hitched a ride on a gondola! For further proof, here's my gondolier!" A shift of the camera had it facing said gondolier.

" _Ciao!_ " said the brunette playing the accordion. He then started sputtering out more Italian.

"What are you doing?" Ludwig appeared behind the small man with a curious look on his face. The accordion player yelped in surprise and fell off the makeshift gondola, which was really a cardboard cutout taped onto Alfred's sofa.

Alfred himself fell back in surprise with the camera still rolling. He landed not too far from the smaller brunette. "L-Ludwig?! What are you… Oh never mind… _CUT_!" Ludwig stared at the duo on the floor as Alfred attempted to get up.

"Oh, I'm sorry Alfred! I messed up, didn't I?" The smaller man sat up and removed his fake mustache, revealing a familiar face.

"No, no Mr. Vargas. It's my fault." Alfred got up and addressed Ludwig, who was still staring, waiting for an explanation to… whatever _this_ was. "Hey Ludwig!" He beamed.

"Do you know how loud you get?"

"Seriously, no 'Hey Alfred, how are you?'"

Ludwig gave him a look (which was becoming Alfred's favorite " _Bitch Please_ " expression of all time) before looking at the "set" that was in the middle of Alfred's living room. The screen had a backdrop of a typical Venice scene on it. One with a view of a large canal and a bridge.

"Okay, so I was being a little louder than usual." There was that look again. Alfred smirked. "Okay, so I was being loud like _always_ , but it was for a really good reason!" The American clasped his hands together.

"Really?" Ludwig crossed his arms, scrutinizing the young man in front of him.

" _Sì!_ It is _Signor_ Ludwig!" Feliciano leapt up from the floor and was at Alfred's side in a heartbeat. "He needs it to trick his parents."

"Don't say it like _that_!" Alfred turned towards Feliciano with a guilty look on his face.

"Trick your parents?" The German raised a brow.

"Well, not trick, but… close to it…"

"So 'lie' then?

" _No!_ … Yes… Look, it's for a good reason."

"Enlighten me." Ludwig crossed his arms once more, waiting for an answer. Alfred muttered something quietly. "What?" Alfred mumbled again but a little louder. "Alfred, what are you saying?" Ludwig was losing his patience. After a third set of indistinguishable mumbles, Ludwig glared at the young American. " _Alfred…_ "

"Uhg! _Fine!_ I'm lying to them about traveling through Europe so I don't have to go home and become a buffalo farmer!" Alfred yelled. He clenched his fists and made a face as if he was a child whining, _I don't wanna!_

Alfred put his face in his hands and mocked a sob. Feliciano patted him on his back, trying to cheer him up. Ludwig just stared at him.

"A… A _buffalo farmer?"_ The German reiterated.

"Yes…" Alfred whined again as he looked back up. "It's a family business. We've owned it for generations, so it's almost become something like a tradition for the eldest kid to inherit the farm form the parents. My mom and dad have been gearing me up to take over the farm since I was practically _born!_ " The American sat on the couch-turned-makeshift-gondola with a frustrated grunt. Feliciano began to pick things up. A few things had gone askew when he and Alfred fell from the couch.

Ludwig stood there for a moment before taking a seat beside the younger blonde. He just _had_ to hear more about this. "I thought most Americans had fantasies about being cowboys."

Alfred gave him an affronted look. "Alright dude, listen up. One: I'm just gonna to tell you right now that not all Americans wanna be cowboys. Okay? And two: What the hell makes you think a buffalo farmer is anything _close_ to a cowboy?"

"My apologies, it's just that… If you don't want to become a bison rancher, then why not tell your parents?" Ludwig asked. Alfred looked over at Feliciano when he heard the accordion being placed back into its case. It made a funny sound as the Italian tried to make it fit, but Alfred just didn't have the energy to be amused by it.

"I can't really… Ya see I _do_ have a little brother; his name is Matthew. Even though he's younger than me, we kinda look a lot alike. In fact people mistake us as twins… well when I was around him at least. Often times Matthew gets mistaken for me… which really didn't help him when that Cuban exchange student would see him. _Man_ , Mattie'd get the shit beat out of him… but every time the Cuban kid did it and realized his mistake, he'd buy Mattie a whole tub of maple ice-cream to make it up to him…"

Ludwig listened, but he was getting a little impatient with the tangent. Alfred noticed and quickly got back on the topic at hand, "But _anyway_ , if I tell my parents that I don't want to take over the ranch, I know they'll just force Mattie to do it, and I can't do that to him."

"Ya see Mattie pretty much lived in my shadow. He never really had an identity of his own. Sometimes even mom and dad would forget they even _had_ a second son. I always got what I wanted, and he had to settle for whatever was thrown at him. The only time he wasn't mistaken for me was when he was playing hockey. Seriously the kids a genius at the sport! In fact, he was so good at it, he got a full ride scholarship for some school and moved to Canada. Mattie's pretty much living his dream right now, and I just can't take that away from him. I've had my time in the spotlight; a lot more then I should've gotten, really. So it's only fair that Mattie gets what he wants and I get the scraps for once."

"That is… Very noble of you, Alfred." Ludwig complimented. The spectacled American smiled. "Well… Almost anyway. You're still running away from your problems. Once they find out that you've been lying to them, they might just come and drag you back. Or worse, force your brother to quit school and take over the ranch instead."

Alfred's smile dropped and he sighed. "Yeah, I was thinking about all the possibilities of what might happen if they ever found out. I mean, it's been over a year since I've graduated and left. They're bound to get suspicious soon." Ludwig nodded. "But that's why I have to keep doing this! The lying, I mean."

"Why? Just tell your parents the truth, tell them how you feel." Ludwig scrutinized the younger blonde, trying feebly to convince him that the truth was a much better alternative to… cardboard gondolas.

"Are you _kidding_ me?! I don't want to break their hearts! They _raised_ me to take over the ranch. If I just told them I don't want to… I don't even want to _imagine_ the look in their faces! No, what I'm saying is that I need to keep doing this, 'till I can come up with a good enough excuse to convince them that I _need_ to stay here."

Alfred reached over to his sketchbook on the coffee table. "I've always wanted to be a comic book artist ever since I was a kid and read my first issue of _Iron Man_ ; seriously, that's my dream job. But I was raised knowing that one day I would have to inherit the ranch." He stopped flipping through the book when a picture of a Native American sleeping against a buffalo appeared. It was coincidental that it turned up, but it still burned a guilty hole into Alfred.

"It's not like I actually _disliked_ the idea, I mean, aside from the actual 'working on the ranch' part. I like all the animals there. Actually I own my own buffalo; his name is Chief Rushing-Wind by the way. It was just that… I wanted to draw comics more than anything." Alfred turned to look at Ludwig, "This whole thing though…" He gestured towards the backdrop Feliciano was trying to figure out how to take down, "I've done this for about a year now, and I still can't come up with anything. It's not just me that's in this bind here; it's Mattie too. Whatever excuse I come up with, it's always shot down because in the end, I can't protect Mattie from being forced to take over the ranch. I've come to the realization that _someone_ is going to have to lose their dream at the end of all this… It's become a 'lose-lose' situation."

Ludwig took in all the information. He had never seen Alfred this upset before. Usually he mocked it just to get attention or to make others laugh, but this was genuine. It was _genuine_ and it was kind of _scary_. Ludwig coughed into his fist trying to ease some of the tension away.

"Then, perhaps it's time to just tell your parents the truth. The whole truth, I mean." Ludwig and Alfred looked up to see a man with white hair and red eyes looking at them with a smirk.

" _Bruder?_ What are you-" Ludwig began.

"Not now, West, I'm working." Ludwig's brother pushed the blonde off of the couch and sat beside Alfred, a grin plastered on his face. "So, like I was saying before I was interrupted-"

"How did you get into my apartment?" Alfred asked, a quizzical look on his face.

"I'm sorry, ve~ The door was open and he was just standing there, so I invited him in." Feliciano piped up as he returned from the kitchen (Ludwig wondered when he had actually gone into the kitchen in the first place) with a tray of glasses filled with iced tea. "I hope you don't mind; you didn't have anything else besides diet soda." The Italian smiled warily.

"No, that's okay! I didn't actually notice anyone at the door so…"

" _Hello_! Can we _please_ get back to what is important here? The awesome me is giving you advice here, listen will ya!" The albino interrupted, taking a glass off the tray and sipping at it.

"Oh sorry!" Alfred apologized and gave his attention towards the man. "… Wait… No, I'm not sorry… Who the hell are you?"

The red-eyed man suddenly spit his drink out. His eyes wide, his mouth gapped open, he looked kind of like a fish (which almost made Alfred giggle out loud, but that wasn't really appropriate at the moment). "West hasn't told you about me?! This is _outrageous_!" He threw the glass in the air, which Alfred expertly caught without even looking. The German quickly turned to "West" and glared at the blonde. "How could you not tell him about the awesome me?! Your awesome big brother?"

Ludwig crossed his arms, "You tell me, Gilbert." There was an awkward pause as Gilbert and Ludwig scrutinized each other before the white haired man leapt forward and hugged (well it was more of a tackle really) the younger German.

"Ah West! You're still the same as ever! I've missed you little bro!" Gilbert managed at some point to get Ludwig into a headlock and give him a noogie, something that was pissing Ludwig off _real_ fast.

"Would you let go of me?!" The blonde German barked. Alfred and Feliciano stared at the scene, not sure of what to make it, though Feliciano smiled about halfway through the exchange, still holding the tray of iced teas, mumbling something along the lines like, " _Fratello_ … Ve~"

"Umm… Hello?" Alfred called out, trying to gain the brothers' attentions.

"Oh, right!" Gilbert let go of Ludwig and reached into his jacket. Meanwhile his younger brother fixed his hair, grumbling in German. The albino then pulled out a business card and handed it to Alfred. "Name's Gilbert Beilschmidt, psychological psychotherapist. I'm also disciplined in clinical psychology, behaviorism, and humanistic psychology." Gilbert grinned smugly as he announced his titles and his achievements.

"Wow… That must have taken some time at college, huh?" Alfred said as he took the card and examined it.

"You freakin' know it! I worked my pretty ass off for ten years before I got my _Diplom-Psychologe!_ "

"A what?"

"It's another title for a philologist." Ludwig half explained. He wasn't going to bother with telling Alfred that it was an official title by law in Germany, it would have just confused him. "Which he barely got by the skin of his teeth." He added.

"Fuck you too, West." Gilbert deadpanned. "Anyway! Let's get started on that little 'I-Don't-Wanna-Be-A-Cowboy' problem, shall we?" The red-eyed German once again sat beside Alfred.

"A buffalo farmer and a cowboy are _completely_ different careers!" The American protested.

"Yeah, whatever…" Gilbert sat back onto the couch and grabbed the boys head. He then shoved him down so his head was lying on his lap. Reaching into his coat again, he pulled out a note pad and pen. "Now… let's begin shall we." The German smirked as he clicked the pen. Alfred gulped and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

"No you may not get up. My lap will have to serve as your pillow for now, so deal with it." Alfred sighed and gave a pleading look towards his friends.

Ludwig gave him the most sympathetic look he could muster (which wasn't much really), and began to push Feliciano out of the room. "Once my _bruder_ starts something, there's no stopping him unless he gets bored." He disappeared into the kitchen before he poked his head out one last time, "And unfortunately for you, Alfred, you are far from boring."

"Was that a compliment?!" Alfred beamed as he feigned a blushing, admired look, " _Oh_ Mister, _Ludwig!_ " he swooned.

"Hey, stop flirting and get talking you! This shit going on in your head is way too fun to _not_ poke at." Gilbert said as he scratched something down on his notepad. Ludwig rolled his eyes as he went into the kitchen with the Italian (who was already prepping a dinner of assorted pastas).

"Your brother seems nice, ve~!" Feliciano began to stir some sauce, "I wish my _fratello_ and I could get along like that." He sighed wistfully as he daydreamed about spending a lovely day with his older brother.

"You don't know the half of it." Ludwig made a grim face as he turned the stove on for the brunette.

* * *

"Your brother _fucks_ with peoples' minds, man!" Alfred looked as though he hadn't had sleep in nearly a week, but in fact it was only a day after Gilbert had arrived and became Alfred's unofficial therapist.

"I know… I _lived_ with him." Ludwig deadpanned, "At least he didn't come home every break from college and psychoanalyze you in _every_ new way he had learned." The taller blond caught the other shivering out of the corner of his eye.

Ludwig smirked before continuing, "I told you Alfred, Gilbert is persistent until he's completely done or completely bored, whichever comes first. You, however, have a lot going on in your head right now, and that's fueling his curiosity. Just be glad that he's actually trying to help you for free." Ludwig explained as he flipped his eggs.

Alfred banged his head against the island counter top. He groaned loudly. "This is complete bullshit!" He turned his head and looked out the balcony window of Ludwig's flat. "He won't stop questioning everything I say, and worse he's boiled _everything_ down to sexual frustration. Who does he think he is? Freud?!"

"He likes to think he is, yes." Ludwig placed his eggs on a plate next to a pair of sausages and lightly tossed the pan in the sink to be washed later. He turned off the stove and turned around and leaned on the stove to address Alfred as he waited for his toast. "I'm sorry Alfred, but I can't help you. He doesn't really listen to me. I am, after all, the _little_ brother."

Alfred made to pout, but Ludwig turned to fetch his toast. The American tried to hide from Gilbert half way through their therapy session by hiding in Ludwig's flat. It was a good hiding spot too, considering the larger blond refused to let the albino in last night. But now it was starting to get obvious that his company was no longer welcomed (especially since Ludwig's dogs found Alfred sleeping in his kitchen cabinets (before barking loudly in his ear)).

The German brought his now completed breakfast over to the island and sat down. Alfred continued to mope but was mostly ignored by the German who took out a newspaper and began to read.

"I just don't know how to handle this I guess. I mean Gilbert suggests that I tell my parents the truth, but he keeps saying the ' _whole truth_ ' and I don't know what he means by that." Alfred reached for one of the sausage links and was promptly smacked away.

"Do that again and I'll take your hand."

" _Yeah_ , alright there Hassel Hoft…"

Ludwig glared from the top of his paper before looking back at it, "He probably won't tell you because he wants you to figure it out on your own. It's a psychologist thing, they're all taught to do that to their patients." Ludwig took a bite of his egg and chewed slowly as he looked over the jobs section. Red marks scored the printed piece.

"So a psychologist is _taught_ to be a crazy ass, douche bag?"

" _Ja_ , pretty much." Ludwig, still reading his paper, suddenly took his fork and slammed the pointed edges on the counter. There was an abrupt yelp. Alfred turned back to see said 'crazy ass, douche bag' clutching a pale hand.

"Jesus Christ, West! What the hell is your problem! You could've taken my hand off!" Gilbert screeched.

Ludwig set down his paper and pointed his fork at Alfred. "Let that be a lesson to you the next time you try to snatch my wurst again."

"Yes sir." Alfred nodded dumbly.

Ludwig, who looked satisfied with Alfred's answer, looked back at the jobs section to circle another opportunity, ignoring his older brother entirely.

"Also, who the hell do you think you are, calling me a crazy ass, douche bag?! I'm _helping_ your ass here!" Gilbert yelled. He scrutinized the youngest blond.

"By not telling me what I need to know? Yeah, _big help_ there, Dr. Freud."

"Don't call him that, it'll only fuel his already maxed out ego." Ludwig commented.

"Shut up West. Nobody was talking to your sorry ass."

"Ugh! I don't have time for this!" Alfred got off the stool and began to leave Ludwig's kitchen. "I gotta go to work." He called.

"Oh! So you have a job, huh?" Gilbert smirked and began to chase after the boy, but Alfred stopped him by poking his head back into the kitchen, a finger extend towards the German.

"Yeah, I do, and you ain't gonna find out what that job is, so _don't_ bother following me!" He then left the room and slammed the front door.

"This isn't your house, Alfred!" Ludwig called out, still looking at his paper. There was a muffled sound and then the click of the door opening.

"Sorry Ludwig!" Alfred's voice hollered back from the hallway before the door shut quietly with a faint echo.

"What's _his_ problem?" Gilbert said, pointing a thumb at the door.

"A psychologist shouldn't be asking that question… at least not out loud to other people." Ludwig replied, taking another bit of his sausage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _Ciao =_ Hello _{Italian}_
> 
> __Sì =_ Yes _{Italian}__
> 
> ___Signor =_ Mister (Mr.) _{Italian}__ _
> 
> ____Fratello =_ Brother _{Italian}__ _ _
> 
> _____Bruder =_ Brother _{German}__ _ _ _
> 
> ______Ja =_ Yes _{German}__ _ _ _ _
> 
> ______**A/N:** Sorry it didn't end up being like 5,000+ words like the others but I had no idea where I was going with this chapter. Honestly this chapter went through a rewrite or two, yes, but halfway through it I fell out of the Hetalia fandom and switched to the Avengers for a while, but today I decided to get off my lazy ass and finish it. It was only meant to discuss more into Alfred's past that was only mentioned in the second chapter, and got into his dilemma he's been having for over a year. But after the main discussion, I had no idea what to do afterwords and it took me a while to just end it.  
>  So sorry if the ending is a bit flat.  
> The next chapter (which I haven't even started writing yet) will probably make up for all this unnecessary drama. Hopefully I'll be able to get it out before summer ends._ _ _ _
> 
> _____And as always I'd like to thank my beta, HanakoAnime! She deserves all the cookies!_ _ _ _ _


End file.
